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i6 THE HOUSE THAT SHADOWS BUILT
from that gloomy servitude of the English draper’s shop with which H. G. Wells has acquainted us in Mr. Polly and The Wheels of Chance. The apprentices sleep in a one-room dormitory over the shop, eat below the salt with the shopkeeper’s family. When he deposited his bundle beside his cot, Adolph discovered four other apprentices, all peasant boys from the surrounding fields. The conversation and the pranks that night shocked him to his marrow. Plain living and high thinking stood the unexpressed motto of the Liebermann family. “Uncle Kalman,” said Zukor in his maturity, “was marooned in the country, but he was a big man. He hadn’t gone to seed, and he hadn’t become a fossil.” At that country parsonage, one heard constant discussion on things of the mind and of the spirit; especially, Kalman Liebermann had trained his brood in purity of thought and correctness of Hungarian speech. Adolph’s citified ways and grammatical speech irritated the yokels; and his small stature tickled their crude sense of humour. “I felt,” says Zukor, “as though someone had dropped me into a sewer.” After the evening’s hazing, he lay awake in the darkness, stuffing the bedclothes into his mouth and resisting the temptation to run away — back to the congenial home of Rabbi Liebermann. But pluck and pride, two of his governing qualities, pulled him through. And when next morning Herman Blau taught him how to wrap up bundles, his spirits began to mount.